Page 44 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
“Me too.” He grins. “At first, I thought they hated each other. I mean, the way they talk to each other? Brutal.”
“That’s just their dynamic. It’s like live theater every day. They love it.”
“They’re weirdly entertaining,” he says, shaking his head. “The first day, I thought I was watching a full-blown fight. Then they started laughing. I was so confused.”
“Guess what?”
He glances at me. “What?”
“When Clara and her ex-husband, Rowan, need to go somewhere without the kids… guess who watches all six of them?”
He turns fully toward me, wide-eyed. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
“All six of them?” He chuckles. “Imani must hate that.”
“She says she does,” I reply, as the car eases into the turn. “But the kids always want to go back to her place. And honestly, I don’t think any child begs to return somewhere they’re not treated right.”
He whistles. “Okay. Imani just earned my eternal respect.”
I smile, watching the road—but my chest feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the heater. Something about driving through these golden hills with him beside me, teasing and thoughtful and effortlessly kind… it makes the world feel softer.
As we pull into the driveway, I spot someone trudging up the porch with a handful of paint cans and a yellow-streaked T-shirt that used to be white.
Hazel.
Cal slows the car and points. “That your sister? We met a few days ago. She’s great.”
“Thanks,” I say, stepping out of the car.
“Haze!” I call out.
She hears me, pauses, and unceremoniously drops the cans on the porch with a dramatic sigh before walking over. There’s dried paint in her hair. Of course.
“What’s with the flowers?” she asks, just as Cal climbs out of the car, still holding the bouquet like it’s sacred cargo.
“Hi, Cal,” she adds, belatedly.
“Hello, Hazel,” he says with an easy smile.
I motion to the flowers. “Cal, we have to hide those—kind of defeats the purpose of a surprise when you wave them around at the front door.”
Hazel raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I miss the part where I was briefed on this top-secret flower operation?”
I shoot her a look and snatch the bouquet from Cal. “Hazel, you’re late.”
She scoffs. “Um, late for what? I never said I was coming today. I’m here of my own volition.”
“Whatever. Come with me.” I flash Cal a smile. “Thank you so much, Cal. I’ll make it up to you.”
Then I turn on my heel and head toward the entryway before I say something less grateful and more… personal.
Behind me, I hear Hazel’s exaggerated sigh and the creak of the porch under her boots.
Cal’s voice follows. “Does she always feel like she has to repay every favor?”
Hazel laughs. “Not always, just every single time.”
